


One chance

by a_loser_s_noodles



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Dark Emperors Kazemaru is back, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Heavy Angst, Some minor blood and injury, set after the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25769347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_loser_s_noodles/pseuds/a_loser_s_noodles
Summary: After Inazuma Japan's victory in the FFI, things haven't been going so great for Nathan, and his old demons never left.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	One chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Preqame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preqame/gifts).



> That was really fun to write, thanks for the commission! Just as a note: in this headcanon, Kazemaru is the name of the body, Nathan is the Kazemaru we're used to seeing on the show and Kaz is his Dark Emperors persona.

“Hey, Kazemaru! This one’s for you!”

Nathan snaps out of it, but not in time to catch the pass. The ball rolls over the white line. Again.

“I’ll get it”, he mutters, trying to ignore his teammates’ frustrated grunts. He’s too far away to understand their half-whispers, but two words sting in particular. Someone spits out the name of Inazuma Japan, with an audible disdain that makes Nathan dig his nails into the tight leather of the ball he’s holding.

“I think I’m gonna go now. I’m not playing very well. Keep on practicing without me.”

No one objects. He kicks the ball back onto the field and heads over to the dormitories.

* * *

He feels himself sinking onto the mattress, he wants to curl up into a ball but doesn’t have the energy to take his shoes off. His head hurts and he’s beginning to feel a familiar ache in his chest.

Should he leave the team altogether?

_Yeah, probably._

Ever since he’s parted ways with his friends, he’s felt out of place in soccer. He didn’t think he relied so heavily on Kidou’s advice, Kabeyama’s strength, or Endou’s support. Now things are... strange. He keeps missing passes, he can’t synchronise his speed with that of his teammates, and he seems to get in the way more than he helps.

The team has a strong defence, that’s for sure. At first, he thought the solution was simply to move to being a midfielder. But he ends up constantly on the side. He’s an afterthought, the player they look for when everyone else is already marked. And even then, he disappoints more than anything else.

After years of being a titular, and one on the world champion team no less, it hurt a ridiculous amount the first time he was told to just stay on the bench. He’s used to it now, but he still feels a pang in his side every time. What if Endou is watching the game somewhere? What is he thinking of Kazemaru, sitting still, not even bothering to warm up because he _knows_ he’s not going to play this one?

_Just leave. It’ll save you the embarrassment._

“Oh, shut up.”

It’s been so long since he actually acknowledged the voice’s very presence that the creature can answer with nothing but heavy silence. For months, years now, he's ignored it, pushed it back, tried to forget everything it tempted him with and everything he agreed to.

The worst part is he remembers _exactly_ how liberating it was, giving up control of his own body, being finally able to close his eyes and feel _nothing_. He had almost forgotten the sensation of taking a deep breath without the cold grip of anxiety tight around his chest, crushing his ribs.

Still, despite his best efforts, the weighty purple glow around his neck feels like a missing limb it's increasingly hard to live without. Especially lately, he's desperate for another taste of that freedom. Just for one game. Just for a few minutes.

_So, I take it you miss it a little bit._

The creature's voice is suave and sarcastic.

"Yeah, and so what? I feel like shit, you happy?"

_I'm not. I don't like seeing you like this. I'm just... frustrated. There's such an easy solution, and yet you keep rejecting it -rejecting_ me _. And you fail, over and over. Aren't you tired?_

Nathan chuckles bitterly.

"It's not a solution. It's cheating. And I..."

His grip on the white sheet tightens. He feels his teeth digging into his lower lip. It hurts, but he can't control them.

"I don't... I don't like the person I am... the person we are, when you're in charge. I could have hurt everyone. I could have lost them."

_Well, seems like just changing teams did a good job of that._

"That's not true!"

He feels tears swelling in his throat. He hates that it’s so easy for the creature to know his weak spots. He hates that he felt it coming and that it still hurt _so much_.

Well, is there anything he doesn’t hate about himself right now?

He closes his eyes and lies on his back. His head is pounding. The creature stays silent but Nathan can feel it watching. Waiting. After a few minutes, he hears its voice again. A whisper. Soft, hesitant, like it’s carefully weighing every single word.

_I didn’t leave. I never wanted to. I could have just shut up all this time and pretend I didn’t exist. Like you wanted me to. But I stayed. When you won, I was proud of you, I really was. It’s just... you have so much potential. You could be so great. You don’t need Endou, you don’t need anyone else. I hate seeing you like this. You just beat yourself down and wait for someone to give you a way out. Don’t you want to be able to help yourself, just once?_

“Oh please, you don’t want to help me. You just want to be in charge. I know you miss controlling the body.”

_You’re right. I do. But the body’s ours. What you’re doing with it now is just wasting it._

Nathan doesn’t say anything for a while. His legs and hands feel heavy.

“What if I’m wasting it? I’m doing things the right way. It will work out in the end.”

_Nathan... how do you still believe that? Please, just rest. I can’t stand watching you self-destruct like this._

Nathan resists the urge to fall asleep and forget everything. He can’t give in. Not after so much time spent fighting the creature, keeping it away from the body’s mouth so it wouldn’t ruin everything he had been working so hard for. He could hear it when a teammate got hurt ( _if it had been you the team would be so much better off why didn’t you jump in front of the ball you should be the one in pain right now_ ) when, with him as captain, the team lost to The Empire ( _of course you lost you didn’t think you were worth anything without Endou did you_ ), when he would spill some of his soup onto the table ( _why did you even bother coming down for dinner you’re giving everyone more work you should just stay in your room and starve_ ), but he’s kept going, he’s been strong, all of that has to have been worth something, right?

He feels a cold hand brushing his cheek. The creature looks at him directly, and for the first time in so, so long, he can bring himself to withstand its gaze and look back.

_It won’t be like before. I promise. I just want what’s good for you. Please, give me a chance. You don’t have to do everything on your own. You can’t._

Nathan’s voice is stuck in his throat. The numbness spreads throughout his whole body. There’s a ringing in his ears and a coppery taste on his tongue. He’s losing the body, but he can still feel the cheap linen of the bedsheets between his fingers, like a distant reminder that he exists. He tries to hold on to it, but soon he realises there’s something else in his hand. Pointy shards, surprisingly light now that the stone’s broken, that seem to be faintly calling out his name. Their purple glow radiates warmth onto his face. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sunlight in a summer afternoon. He closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling.

He’s waken up by the boiling, feverish burn of what he soon understands to be his own skin. He’s covered in sweat and dirt, the tips of his shoes are red with his own blood. He’s breathing heavily, his lungs hurt. In front of him, a goalkeeper wearing a jersey he doesn’t know is lying on the grass, with the distinct print of a soccer ball marked onto his face. There are pieces of broken teeth scattered around, and the blood-stained ball is still smoking.

The distinct three whistles that mark the end of a game feel like they’re piercing through his skull.

_Look at the score._

The voice is calm and sure of itself. Nathan turns his head to the screen. His team won 15-0.

_We scored all of those._

“Hey, Kazemaru! That was amazing! I didn’t know you were such a good striker!”

His captain comes running to him and pulls him into a tight hug. Nathan is static and silent. He can’t process the captain’s strong smell of sweat and deodorant, the roaring cheers and applause coming from the stadium all around him, the stinging pain of his broken toenails.

The rest of the team start to head back to the locker room, but he doesn’t move.

“Kazemaru, are you coming?”

He suddenly comes back, and smiles at his teammates.

“Yeah, I am. Oh, and just one more thing.”

Everyone stops and stares at him.

“From now on, you can call me Kaz.”


End file.
